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Past Brody's back to the electronics
Beep, chatter, blip.
UNDERWATER SEQUENCE - HOOPER
Hooper descends in a froth of bubbles. Warily he turns a full circle with his hotlight. At first we see nothing out of place about the Flicka except that it is lying so low in the water. But as Hooper travels the bottom looking for damage, he comes across a jagged hole two-thirds of the way forward.
The hole is about the size of a basketball, and the wood around it has been bashed and splintered. Hooper explores the hole with his hands, then takes the knife from its sheath and begins to dig at something. Whatever it is comes free in his hand. As he studies his find, his light wanders upward, pointing directly into the dark hole. Hooper looks up...
CLOSE - HOLE
Ben Gardner's dead face stares out through the hole in the Flicka, eyes and mouth gaping in frozen horror, his skin pinched like a prune.
CLOSE - HOOPER
bumps his head in trying to get away, seems to yell through escaping bubbles. We hear the gasping shout as a bubbling roar in the ears. His mask fills with water as he flails for the surface. Miscalculating, he bumps into the hull of his own boat, shocked, dismayed, his system jangling with adrenaline shock, his hands open, and the object he pried loose from the hull drifts down and out, falling into the eternity of the ocean bottom. He finally bursts through the surface.
END OF UNDERWATER SEQUENCE
THE BOAT, HOOPER EMERGING FROM THE WATER
He is gasping for breath, his whole body vibrating with urgency. The salt water in his lungs combines with the adrenaline in his blood to deprive him of speech.
BRODY You all right?
HOOPER A White! A Great White, I found a tooth buried in the hull. He must've attacked... I knew it... Gardner's dead in there. I didn't see the mate...
BRODY No shark did that to a boat!
Hooper, despite his shock and surprise, is strangely elated, almost giddy with the wonder of his discovery.
HOOPER Jesus Christ! A Great White! Who'd believe it! We're not talking about a shark, we're talking about a Shark!
Brody sinks weakly into a chair. Brody huddles in the stern, Hooper kicks the engine in with a roar, and still a-shiver with excitement, turns the boat and its grim tow back to port.
EXT. ISLAND HIGHWAY - THE BILLBOARD - DAY
Next to the "Amity Welcomes You" billboard is a group of selectmen, Vaughn, Meadows, Hendricks, and another deputy standing by with paint and brushes. Brody's wagon is there, along with a few other cars. Busy late afternoon traffic is starting to pile up as early weekenders and curiosity seekers slow down to see what's happening.
Behind the billboard, Brody and Hooper have gotten Vaughn to one side. They are making a closely reasoned presentation to him.
BRODY There is a kind of shark called a Great White Shark that every expert in the world agrees is a maneater.
HOOPER You're situation here suggests that a Great White has staked out a claim in the waters around Amity Island, and that he will continue to feed here as long as there is food in the water.
BRODY There's no limits to where he can strike, and we've had three attacks and two deaths in the past few days. It happened like this before, in 1916, when a Great White killed five swimmers at Jones Beach, in Long Island.
HOOPER A shark's attack is stimulated by the kind of splashing and activity that occurs whenever humans go swimming -- you can't avoid it!
BRODY A 4th of July beach is like ringing a dinner bell, for Chrissake!
HOOPER I just pulled a shark tooth the size of a shot glass out of the hull of a wrecked boat out there.
BRODY We towed Ben Gardner's boat in, Larry; he was dead and his boat was all chewed up.
VAUGHN Is that tooth here? Did anyone see it?
HOOPER I don't have it.
BRODY He lost it on the way up.
VAUGHN What kind of a shark did you say it was?
HOOPER Carcaradon carcharias. A Great White.
VAUGHN Well, I'm not going to commit economic suicide on that flimsy evidence. We depend on the summer people for our lives, and if our beaches are closed, then we're all finished.
BRODY We have got to close the beaches. We have got to get someone to kill the shark, we need non-corrosive mesh netting, we need scientific support... It's gonna cost money just to keep the nuts out and save what we have.
VAUGHN I don't thing either of you is familiar with our problems...
HOOPER I'm familiar with the fact that you are going to ignore this thing until it swims up and bites you on the ass! There are only two ways to solve this thing: you can kill it, or you can cut off its food supply...
BRODY That means closing the beaches.
VAUGHN Come here, I want to show you something.
He leads Brody around to the front of the billboard, on which we see that some pranksters have painted a huge shark fin in the water behind the swimmer, so she looks now like a frantic bather fleeing a pursuing monster.
VAUGHN Sick vandalism! Brody, that's a deliberate mutilation of a public service message! I want those little paint-happy bastards caught and hung up by their baby Buster Browns!
HOOPER (who has followed them around) That's it! I'm standing here arguing with a guy who can't wait to be a hot lunch. Goodbye.
BRODY Wait a minute! I need you.
HOOPER Out there is a Perfect Engine, an Eating Machine that is a miracle of evolution -- it swims and eats and that's all. Look at that! Those proportions are correct. (indicates fin) I know sharks.
VAUGHN You'd love to prove that. Getting your name in the National Geographic.
BRODY Larry, we can re-open the beaches in August.
VAUGHN August! Tomorrow is the 4th of July, and we are going to open for business. It's going to be our best summer in years. If you're so concerned about the beaches, you two, you do whatever you have to to keep them safe, but with you or without you, the beaches stay open this weekend.
INT. FERRY BOAT - DAY
Two cavernous iron doors. Then a crack of vertical light as six burly crewmen muscle them apart. The Amity ferry landing is approaching, people in colorful outfits waiting dockside for the first filled-to-capacity shuttle of the summer season and --
Bach's Little Fugue is the musical accompaniment to this wholly visual montage of disembarkation. The next two minutes should be treated like a "short film" taking into account all of the colors, episodes, faces and behavior of a variety of Americans who colonize Eastern resort communities for the ninety-day season.
Intercut with this montage is Brody's home, where Ellen, Hooper and Brody are in sweaty, gritty all-out effort to enlist some support. Elements in this montage include:
A. A train of cars trundling down the ramp, bumper to bumper.
B. Young Beautiful People from Princeton, Yale, NYU, wearing knapsacks, toting luggage, babies riding in papoose rigs, energized children, senior citizens holding hands on the pedestrian ramp, a few wheelchairs.
C. Hooper, bent over the phone: "I know it's a long weekend, could you get me his home phone number?
D. Sidewalk vendors hawking "Shark Killed" souvenirs, big photo "Personality Posters" of the dead tiger shark hung on the dock.
E. Brody: "You're acting senior officer? Where's Chief Petty Officer Feldman? Where's the Coast Guard Executive Officer?"
F. Souvenir stands selling Genuine Sharks Teeth from The Amity Killer Shark, Captured This Week.
G. Amity Cab Company, small blue Toyotas lined up with their college student drivers like a bomber wing.
H. Hooper: "Well then, operator, could you try him in the dining room?"
I. Brody: "All I get is a recording. Is there some other number I could try...?"
J. Station wagons with pale winter faces pressed anxiously to the window. Cadillacs with Rear Admirals at the helm, their wives with blue hair remembering the way from years before.
K. Hooper: "When did he check out? Did he leave another phone number?"
L. Brody: "How can I reach him in Chambers if he's not in Chambers?"
M. Little Karate Hands breaking picket fences.
N. Some local delinquents about 10 or 12 years old, towing behind their bicycles a little dead sand shark with signs: "Amity Monster Shark." "Killed Here." 5 Cents a Hit." Etc.
Then six blonde and tanned Coney Island meatballs descend the ramp. They all wear Men's Club Lifeguard patches and matching collegiate windbreakers. They scour the landing, looking for someone to save.
The boat is empty. Everybody heading inland, anticipating the best Fourth of July ever. Already there is debris on the docks and the cleaning crew works away at it.
INSIDE THE FERRY
As Bach's Little Fugue ends, the six burly crewmen lean their combined weight against the Cathedral doors, closing out the light and locking in the trade. The doors latch shut with a resounding clang!
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